44Note: Thank you so much for the comments on the last chapter! They make me keep writing. Life has been very busy: Covid, I got married, I moved to another state, I started a new job, I changed my position within the new company, I did an MBA, I'm learning Spanish... in short, all this made me put this fic aside , but I never intended to discontinue it. To everyone who is still here, thank you!
I know pretty much all of you have been wondering about Peter, and the only thing I can say is: I didn't make a mistake in the last chapter and I have the entire Peter-related plot drawn out (just need to find out if I'm going to write this correctly! lol).
Previously: In the future, Hermione tells Ron about her pregnancy and despairs at the thought of her baby's birth in a chaotic world. At the same time, news of the breach of magical secrecy shocks the Muggle world, prompting a debate over Responsibility to Protect in the international community.
In the past, Petrus O'Farrell Jr. receives a visit from Lucius Malfoy and is threatened by him. The Order of the Phoenix assembles and Hermione worries that Voldemort might find out about his secret. James and Lily suggest that Hermione dye her hair and wear muggle glasses so that a simple spell doesn't blow her cover. The chapter ends with the announcement that Peter Pettigrew has been found alive.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The one with Peter Pettigrew
The Floo's greenish light wakes him from his drunken slumber. He can't remember the last time he fell asleep without the alcohol clogging his veins and making his senses fuzzy. He sits in his armchair, uncomfortable, and tries to organize his thoughts to keep the hard arousal in his pants from doing too much damage. Again, he'd dreamed of the night he'd lost his virginity to Lily and it was very difficult to erase the image of the redhead from his mind.
He closes his eyes, his mind going blank as the emptiness of occlumency fills him completely. After a moment, a noise to his right catches his attention, and taking a deep breath, Severus rises from his armchair bitterly and complains to himself as he walks towards the flaming fireplace.
His head throbs. He glances at the clock above his head and frowns as he realizes was only three o'clock in the morning. Over the past few months he'd woken up several nights to finish a project requested by the Dark Lord himself, and with its completion, this had been the first night he'd arrived in Spinner's End without having to spare a glance for his cauldron. Not knowing what to do with his free time, and afraid that his mind would take him to her again, Severus had wasted no time in drinking his entire supply of Fire Whiskey as soon as he got home. However, although his conscious mind hadn't made its way to Lily, his drunken thoughts had led him to the inevitable fear of what his invention could mean for the wizarding world.
As he drank his fourth glass, Severus thought about his own intelligence. He had never considered himself an attractive man in any way, but his intelligence had set him above the rest. Taking this as a mantra, a young Severus Snape established that it would be his priority and made sure to always keep his nose stuck to a book. "Knowledge is power, Severus", the Dark Lord had told him once, so many years ago. At Hogwarts, away from his abusive father and cowardly mother, he was able to embrace his intelligence without worrying about being laughed at for it.
It was at Hogwarts that he discovered his absolute interest in the Dark Arts and his natural love for potions, and it was it, the potions, that lifted him out of extreme poverty and led to him becoming the only half-blood Death Eater important enough to being within the Dark Lord's inner circle.
His only fear, however, was that the potions would likely be the undoing of the world, her end, and consequently, his ending as well.
His upbringing had started over three years ago while he was at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord had asked him for a potion that would allow him access to Dumbledore's ranks in case something went wrong, a kind of backup. He had no idea at the time that his potion would prove necessary in such a short time, even more so with the Dark Lord's failure to murder the younger Potter.
" The Dark Lord recognizes your worth, Severus, and he is very generous to those who deserves it." Voldemort had told him.
As a young adult, he had been dazzled by the Dark Lord's promises, and now, after the completion of his creation, he couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself. He knew, of course, that its accomplishment was an extremely complicated feat. However, being a potion of darkness, he knew the only way to remotely celebrate his success was with a good drink, which was why his head was pounding so heavily these days...
The flames in his fireplace grew again, drawing Severu's attention. Whoever had decided to visit him - without warning - was eager to speak to him, if the near-impatient speed of the flames meant anything. Sometimes, and secretly, Severus wished that Wizards would use one of those muggle communication trinkets (phonone?), but before he could properly think about it, his pale face nearly burned as the fire grew and almost reached his aquiline nose.
Sighing, Severus raised his black wand and allowed access to his house with a wave of his hand. Taking a step back, his disgruntled expression deepened as he noticed the slender figure of Bellatrix Lestrange emerging from his simple fireplace. With the composure of a queen, the young woman left the flames and looked around the room with open disdain.
"I see you still haven't moved out of this muggle hole." The woman said in disgust.
"What do you want, Bella?" Severus snapped impatiently. "It's three o'clock in the morning and I have better things to do." The woman raised a perfect eyebrow at him and laughed fervently.
"I can imagine what you were busy with, Severus." She laughed again as she looked at his empty bottle and approached him with a smirk. Raising her hands, Bellatrix grabbed the fronts of his shirt and Severus closed his eyes trying to find patience. "Tell me Severus, did it work?"
"You'll have to be more specific. What did work?". he asked acidly, trying to ignore his rising annoyance. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the emptiness of occlumency again.
"The potion, did it work?" Bellatrix questioned him as her long white fingers hardly poked his chest.
"Of course it worked, Bella." Severus replied angrily and then opened his black eyes. Bellatrix looked at him with feigned disinterest and he gave her a mocking smile. Severus grabbed her shoulders, and forcefully turned her towards the fireplace, so that her back was turned to him. With little patience, he placed the tip of his wand on the woman's slender back.
"I see you don't want to play today." The woman grunted as Severus roughly turned around and sat down in his worn leather armchair. "Pitty". Bellatrix said smiling as she turned and walked towards the man "So, that means that the Dark Lord's plan will succeed?"
"Of course, are you doubting what the Dark Lord has planned?" Severus questioned her, and Bellatrix's body stiffened at the question.
"Of course not, you filthy half -breed. I just want to make sure I don't lose a limb to your little invention -". She sighed dramatically and then looked at him mockingly. "If you proof yourself as a good potions master for the Dark Lord, maybe he can reward you with a pureblood wife to make you lineage greater again."
Severus rolled his eyes in boredom.
"Do you need anything else, Bella?"
"I need a fertility potion." Severus' eyebrow rose in surprise. What? "Pottery & Craft is on Diagon Alley. I'm sure you have enough money for an order." Severus responded with a huff.
"You know very well that it wouldn't do any good for me to spend my gold on that joint." The woman answered him coldly.
"I won't help put crazy kids like you and Rodolfo in the world" The man replied in disgust after a few seconds of consideration as he lazily waved his wand, causing another glass of Whiskey to fly towards him.
"I will not have any children with Rodolfo". Bellatrix replied with her nose up. Severus looked at her with barely concealed disbelief.
"You can't possibly think the Dark Lord would choose you as -"
" - I am the Dark Lord's most loyal servant" Bellatrix interrupted him vehemently as she approached Severus dangerously. "And he has hinted that he is open to the idea."
"So you're dumber than I thought, Bella." Severus replied wearily as he drank the contents of his glass. "The Dark Lord will not have an heir anytime soon. An heir means that one day he will no longer be in power and that the throne will one day belong to another."
The woman bit her plump lips in concern before her evil features crossed her face again. "The Dark Lord is the strongest man in the entire world since Salazar Slytherin himself. He will be in power forever, even if his body is no longer with us, Severus. But that moment will unfortunately come, no one is immortal." She moved closer to the man and then climbed into his lap. "Now, be a good half-breed and give me the potion."
Bellatrix's hand soon reached the top of his pants and for a second, Severus closed his eyes and tried to push the image of Lily away. In situations like these, he felt truly pathetic, but he couldn't help it. Whenever a witch gave herself to him, he couldn't help but imagine her, in her adult maturity, accepting him for the man he was.
When he and Lily had had sex so many years ago, he would have liked to think it had been good for her, but he wouldn't be fooled that way. They were both very immature and inexperienced in the matter, and while it was good for him, she sure as hell hadn't come. He liked to think that now that he knew how to satisfy a witch, he would make her come like Potter never could. He liked to think that she was the one he was fucking, and that he, by Merlin's grace, would proficiently fuck her this time. However, even though he wasn't fucking Lily right now, he allowed himself to close his eyes for a second and imagined it would be her moaning his name.
"You're an idiot if you think getting pregnant with the Dark Lord will make him look at you differently." Severus said after a weary groan "- but I will grant you that wish, Bella. I will prepare the potion -" the woman smirked at him as she rose gracefully and looked at him in victory "On one condition". Bellatrix looked at him with a frown. "You're going to owe me a favor, and I want a vow on it."
The gray face of the man with the dull black hair twitched as sudden pain shot through his wrists when his arms were magically pulled forward by the spell binding his hard, callused wrists. A burly guard smirked at his discomfort and tugged him hard again.
In fright, the prisoner stumbled and nearly fell to the ground. His hands touched the ground, and his dirty nails poked out under the white floor. He grimaced contemptuously as he hurriedly stood up. The man swallowed hard when, as he walked, he felt nervous. His breathing was rapid and his heart was beating rapidly. With every step he took, he felt worse, and all his sins leapt into his head: Death, smell of blood, a maniacal laugh in the background as they killed those children...
Abruptly, he stopped walking when a guard stopped his steps. A weeping woman walked past him, screaming about her innocence, "Please, I didn't do anything, I swear, I'm a witch, I didn't tell anyone! ", and he looked at her with disdain. For a second, her brown eyes momentarily meet his, and the man smiled as she looked away, sickened. He knew he was no longer the man he used to be. In recent years, his vanity had waned as his efforts towards the Dark Lord increased. His teeth, once pleasantly clean and shiny, filled his mouth with rot from his continued use of magical cigars, and when he was pulled away by the guard, and his feet carried him into a large oval hall, his rotten teeth trapped his lower lip and a metallic smell - blood - filled his long hooked nostrils.
Suddenly, he found himself pushed against a large metal structure, and before he could react, he found himself placed in a large cage, like a simple animal. Instantly he felt the magical barriers cutting through the power in his veins, and in that moment, for the first time, he understood how Muggles must feel in the face of wizarding power: cornered, powerless, and weak. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the wave of fear that coursed through his body, but failed in vain. His fists clenched angrily as the weight of everything slung over his shoulders.
"You're going to die, Death Eater!" he heard to his right. Again, he felt angry. He wasn't just anyone, his family came from an ancient lineage of Russian wizards and he should be given respect! However, before he could voice his thoughts, a murmur snapped him out of his irritated state, and suddenly none of that mattered anymore. It didn't matter that he was a rich pureblood wizard. His black eyes scanned the crowd around him, waiting for him to fuck off, die or worse.
By accepting the Dark Lord's invitation to help him with the challenge of keeping the culture and traditions of wizarding society alive, he hadn't thought it would come to this. Naively, he allowed himself to commit crimes, truly thinking he was ridding the wizarding world of something worse. At the time, the thought that Muggles - Mudbloods - were breeding and soiling his world more and more sickened him, but as he felt his end drawing closer and closer, in the back of his mind, he allowed himself to regret it.
A draft of cold air passed through the prisoner, and as he shivered, he was instantly consumed by an unreal fear that filled him completely; from head to toe. He could hear screams in his head and the feeling that he would soon receive a fate worse than death. Raising his head, he saw a thin layer of shiny silver above his cage, separating him from his worst nightmares. The man shivered again as he visualized the black cloak of the dementors lurking in the kiss. Would this be his breakup? He knew that the chance of convicting a Death Eater would be jumped at by anyone who wanted a quick promotion, and therefore, the chances of walking out of the trial with his soul intact were slim.
Unless..
His heart stopped for a millisecond as the great black pine doors opened, and with that, men and women dressed in black robes entered the great hall. His hands clenched tightly into fists and again he tasted blood in his mouth. Building up courage, he looked up and faced his fate squarely.
"We are here for the trial of Igor Dimitri Karkaroff, charged with criminal association with Death Eaters, mass murder of over twenty-three Muggles, and torture and murder of the Bones family." A high-pitched voice snapped him out of his trance and Igor sighed in tired resignation.
He didn't truly care about what he'd done, but what could happen from there. He was proud to serve the Dark Lord, but he obviously didn't want to die. Raising his eyes, he spotted the woman who had read his accusation and with a wry smile, he couldn't help but comment. "So will I be accused by the Bones heiress? How nice and fair." The woman looked at him coldly, not showing a single emotion, but her blue eyes glittering dangerously. However that didn't inhibit his sharp tongue. "Tell me, Amelia, do you still sleep thinking about your husband? It's been a few months, maybe you'd better meet someone else. I wonder if you kept his clothes with some containment spell...", Igor said to himself. and then looked Amelia in the eye again, smirking. "If it makes you any better, I must say he thought about you a lot before dying." Again, she ignored him.
"Bartô, I believe we have enough to decide a verdict, don't we?", Amelia questioned a man beside her and Igor's eyes widened in recognition. The Dark Lord was correct about who would heed his judgment, he thought.
"Yes, Amelia. I believe that in view of all the testimonies and evidence collected that incriminate Mr. Karkaroff, we can now decide the veredict" Barty Crouch Sr. answered clearly, his face filled with anxiety to doom another Death Eater. Turning to Igor, Barty's eyes met him coldly. "Understand, Karkaroff, that this court has no tolerance for Death Eaters. According to wizarding law, the only possible outcome for crimes committed by you is the Dementor's Kiss. However, if you have anything useful to tell us we can decide on a less severe penalty." When he finished, Igor couldn't help but laugh.
"And suffer the Dark Lord's wrath? Any fate is better than betraying it." The prisoner laughed and then spat acidly on the floor. Blood was rushing through his veins as a feeling of euphoria filled him. This was it, the moment when he was supposed to play his part.
"If you truly have nothing more to tell us, I'm afraid we don't need to keep this session going," Barty said as he stood up and looked Igor straight in the eye, waiting for an answer. When it became clear that the man would not say anything, Barty continued. "Igor Dimitri Karkaroff, you have been convicted of the aforementioned crimes and will receive the Dementor's Kiss in three days. In the meantime, you can say goodbye to family members in two daily fifteen-minute meetings". Nodding to the guards keeping Igor in the big cage, Barty got out of his seat and started toward the door, as did the other members of the court. From his seat, Igor closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
His body ached and in the background he could hear his own voice screaming. The piss spilled down his legs, and blood trickled down his nostrils. It was as if several dozen knives pierced him as his bones were ground one by one.
"You failed, Karkaroff, and the Dark Lord does not tolerate failure."
His throat grew hoarse as the sorcerer increased the intensity of the curse, and just after what felt like years, a handsome but devilish face jutted out in front of him. Red eyes stared at him and the man's contoured mouth broke into a thin smirk.
In his mind's eye, he saw the face of Sonia, his wife, smiling at him. For a moment he thought he had died and that he had finally been reunited with her, but then, suddenly, Igor found himself pulled from his paradise as the Dark Lord's voice rang in his bruised ears.
"- But you will reward it for me."
Igor opened his eyes the second two guards pulled him forward, just in time to stop Bartholomew from going through the door "Wait!". Silence surrounded him when and Bartolomeu's cold eyes stared at him. He thought of his dead wife and his still-living daughter before proceeding with his act "Tell me, Bartholomew Crouch Sr," Igor said the name tartly, "If I had a really important information for you, how willing to reconsider my sentence would you truly be?"
IGOR KARKAROFF SENTENCED TO FIVE YEARS IN AZKABAN. BARTOLOMEU CROUCH JR. SUSPECTED OF CRIMINAL ASSOCIATION.
Igor Dimitri Karkaroff, known Death Eater, once renowned professor of the Dark Arts at Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry , was sentenced to five years imprisonment in Azkaban after the murder of seven members of the Bones family, out of nine in total. "The feeling of indignation is what remains," said Amélia Bones, public prosecutor and survivor of the attack on her family (page four).
The initial sentence, handed down by Bartolomeu Crouch Sr. was that Karkaroff would receive the Dementor's kiss in a few days, but after a tragic turn of events, the Death Eater managed to lessen his sentence. In order to understand why this happened, it is important for readers to understand that the Wizard Supreme Court introduced as a strategy to reduce the escalation of conflict with You-Know-Who the whistleblower regime, that is, a legal benefit granted to a defendant in a criminal action that agrees to collaborate in the criminal investigation or to turn over his associates.
The turn of events took place after the declaration of the final sentence. Igor Karkaroff, desperate for his demise, shouted that he would have a more important name than his in the ranks of You-Know-Who and that he would be willing to cooperate with the Court if he were promised a lesser sentence and his inclusion in the program to protect magical witnesses. After deliberation by the members of the court, Karkaroff drank twenty (20) ml of veritaserum and revealed a news that shocked everyone in the place: Barty Crouch Jr. (22), son of the Chief Wizard of the Supreme Court and pre-candidate for Minister for Magic, Barty Crouch Sr, is said to have recruited for about three (3) years the young wizarding minds to compose You-Know-Who's army. Not only that, but young Mrs. Crouch apparently engineered the latest Hogsmeade bombing (p. 8) which resulted in the death of five students, four (4) wizards and one (1) mugleborn.
What followed was an excruciating interrogation, with a team of over six (6) interrogation specialists. Alastor Moody, Head of the British Ministry of Magic's Senior Aurors team spearheaded the inspection, and after reviewing Karkaroff's memoirs as well as his veritaserum statements, Barty Crouch Jr. was formally charged with criminal association with Death Eaters.
After the official investigation report was forwarded to the DMLE, the Ministry's Aurors team was unable to find Barty Crouch Jr. and the accused has been missing ever since. Asked for an interview by the Daily Prophet staff, Barty Crouch Sr. and his wife Elliandra Crouch have not commented on the case.
If anyone has any information as to the whereabouts of Barty Crouch Jr., please owl the DMLE as soon as possible so the Ministry can continue to successfully protect wizarding society.
For a moment, everything happened too fast.
They were discussing her physical change (again), talking about the Petrus case, and the next second, Dumbledore told them about Peter. Euphoria filled her and the feeling of justice overwhelmed her. Soon, he would be penalized and she would feel better. After all, Peter Pettigrew's existence was one of the main reasons her friends and she suffered so much in the future, and Merlin knew Hermione needed a dose of justice to recharge her batteries. forces.
Her hands acted mechanically, and with a few waves of wand, her once dark hair turned dark blond and her eyes were framed by glasses. As her feet followed her old headmaster, she put the rim of her glasses on her face and walked into another room.
And there, sitting in a chair, was Peter Pettigrew.
The man, however, looked nothing like the Pettigrew she had known in her third year. There was not the slightest trace of a mouse, and Hermione reluctantly recognized that Pettigrew was, even incredibly injured, handsome.
His entranced observation was cut short as the man sniffed and tried to stand up on one leg, only to be restrained by magical restraints. Sirius, James and Remus watched him from a distance, stunned, while Lily wasted no time in cursing him. "You disgusting cockroach-".
"Mrs. Potter, I believe we should listen to what young Pettigrew has to say before we take any kind of action." Dumbledore interrupted her. Hermione's blood bubbled with anger in her veins and before she could defend Lily, the headmaster continued. "Mr. Pettigrew, what happened to you?"
For a few seconds, the sound of her breathing was the only thing Hermione could hear. Looking down at her hands, she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself as she registered the scene in front of her. She could clearly hear his voice in her head, talking to her, begging for mercy, when she was no more than fourteen.
"I don't know what happened!" Peter cried. "One minute I was home with Mom, and the next minute I was lying on this muddy grass-"
"- Do you want us to believe that you don't remember what you did?" Sirius interrupted him angrily. "Do you really think we wouldn't hold you responsible for nearly killing them, you son of a bitch?" he yelled. Peter curled up in his seat and was momentarily still before he began to cry openly.
"No, Sirius! I do not remember! My mind is very confused-"
"You can't be forced to tell the secret, Peter," Remus said calmly, as his eyes blazed with anger, "You have to want to, voluntarily."
"I swear, I don't remember!" Peter kept crying.
"Professor". Hermione said. "Maybe it would be better if we used veritaserum?". Moody grunted in agreement, "that way we'll be sure."
"Yea! Use veritaserum on me, I don't mind!". Peter said hastily.
And so it was done. When Peter's eyes became astonished, Dumbledore positioned himself in front of Peter and raised his wand.
"Now Mister Pettigrew, I understand you are under veritaserum usage, but we know that a direct interrogation can be circumvented by highly skilled wizards. We will, therefore, carry out other less… conventional interrogation methods". Hermione frowned as she placed a hand protectively on her belly. What did he mean by that?
"Legilimens," said Dumbledore.
"The order has been doing this lately," Remus informed her as Dumbledore and Peter fell silent at the sight of Hermione's confused expression. "Legilimens and veritaserum are practically impossible to circumvent because the mind-"
"-search for the truth and only see the truth, and therefore the recipient of the serum cannot invent lies. Brillant!" Hermione completed looking at the scene in front of her. "But what if Peter is skilled in occlumency?"
"He's not," James replied beside her as he lit a muggle cigarette. "Moody always swore at him with that during our combat training.."
"Shhh!" Lily interrupted them, "Dumbledore needs concentration!"
And for the next few minutes all the occupants of the room kept watching Dumbledore's silent inspection. Sirius, to Hermione's surprise, had been silent throughout the entire process, but as time passed, the Black Heir became anxious and Hermione took a tentative step towards him and took his hand. Their eyes met and she felt him squeezing her hand in return.
With a snap, Peter fell to the floor in a faint, and suddenly, Dumbledore rose from his chair, looking extremely serious and, to Hermione's surprise, looked at all the occupants of the room in utter bewilderment.
"Voldemort managed to break Fidelius' vow."
"What?" Sirius asked after half a second of everyone being speechless. Hermione felt the young Black's hand leave hers as he began to pace anxiously across the room. "What does that mean?"
"I couldn't really understand what he did Mr Black, because Mr. Pettigrew himself doesn't understand, and I can only see what Peter saw. However I can think of a few theories." Dumbledore adjusted his half moon glasses on his pointed nose and with a wave of his wand, Peter's unconscious body was lifted from the chair and placed on a bed in the corner of the room. "Fidelius' magic, while inherently good due to its protective intent, is still ancient magic, derived from rituals that refer to the creation of magic itself. Magic is intent, which is why the wizarding world has been able to create spells throughout the ages. Of course, we have perfected the art of spell creation, but even so, intent is still a key factor in spell creation." Dumbledore sighed. "Mister Pettigrew was abused with mind magic created purely by the intent of an extremely powerful wizard. It seems to me that Voldemort managed to somehow create temporary personality fissures in Peter's mind, which had allowed him to believe that he was no longer faithful to the order, faithful to you boys. Fidelius was born from the intention to protect and when he truly believed that you were no longer friends, Peter changed sides and told the secret because he thought, truly thought, it was the right thing to do".
"So he is no longer loyal to the cause, Professor?" Lily asked when it looked like no one else would say anything.
"No, Miss Evans, he is loyal to us again." Dumbledore replied gently, though his face was still serious. "Of intent, to break the personality shackles Voldemort had cast on him, and in doing so, he became fully aware of what he had done, of the abuse he had been put through for so long."
"For how long?". Sirius asked in a dangerously serious voice. "How long has Peter's mind been… raped?"
"I can't say for sure, Mr. Black, but it looks like it has been happening since the Bones' murder", the headmaster replied.
"But this is almost a year old!". Remus said in shock. "How did we not realize that he-"
Suddenly, a small explosion resounded in their ears. A window to Hermione's left had exploded, and as she rapidly looked for the source of the explosion, Hermione saw James, beside her, fists clenched and staring. Lily placed a comforting hand on his arm, trying to keep him from breaking another window with his accidental magic. At the same time, Sirius resumed pacing frantically from one side of the room to the another as his strong hands ran through his dark locks in more an act of anxiety. Remus' eyes, brilliantly yellow, burned with anger as he watched his friend, Peter Pettigrew, unconscious.
And yet, the group's anger was not directed at the Animagus. Was it possible they were wrong about the man? She could literally feel her brain starting to ache...
"I don't understand, Professor," Hermione was the first to speak. "How is this possible?". she asked anxiously as she twirled one of her unruly – now blonde – curls in her hands. Her eyes shifted to Peter's figure. A horrible feeling of disgust and doubt coursed through her as she watched him. "So does that mean -" Hermione started to speak.
"That means we were wrong about Peter" James said turning to her. "That you were also wrong about him".